CHNCY-3 tilted his head and looked at the old man. His sensors were picking up a great amount of energy building within him. Perhaps the Light was brighter than Chauncey had given him credit for. The Light was getting ready to fight, but so was Chauncey.

	The hydraulic pistons in his legs began to move, gear began to turn. Steel and grease in the place of flesh and blood. He leapt to the side of Williams and back about six feet. He could of, perhaps he should've fled then and there. He had the inkling, however, that Frosner would not take kindly to failure. He bolted forwards, accelerating at a blinding speed. He now stood almost toe-to-toe with the bearded man, wrapping his sword arm around Williams so the if he tried to back up, he'd back up directly into Chauncey's blade. He held the minigun barely more than an inch away from the man's sternum. He spun up the gun and began to speak, the artificially synthesised male voice falling away to CHNCY-3's more primal, digital sounding voice.

	"[b][i]FROSNER SENDS HIS REGARDS[/i][/b]"